welcome moon gazer, flower admirer, skinny dipper, public crier, tree hugger, shower singer, notes app poetry writer, early riser, coffee drinker, tea sipper, living room dancer, sunset lover, and everyone in between. this is sacred somethings, musings on sensitivity, embodiment, grief, and the sacred in every day.
Long time no see, sweeties and substackers!
It’s been nearly six months since I last published anything here, but fear not!! I have continued to write. I am knee (maybe chest) deep in scribbled brain dumps written on rainy mornings, angry bursts of thought typed rapidly into my notes app between tasks at work, and passion-imbued stanzas written from my best friend’s couch, still looking for a permanent home within a poem.

At the time of writing this, I have just clicked back and re-read my last published post, titled the naked neighbor. I remember the feeling of giddiness that piece was born from. I can feel the warmth of six-month-ago-kenz’s laughter through her words. I feel grateful to be reminded of that sucrose sweet moment in time, and trust that feeling will return again someday.
But it would be a disservice to myself (and to you too, reader) to sugarcoat the reality of where I write from now. The flavor of this moment is less sweet, more bitter. Much like the scent of my morning coffee still lingering on my lips.
on simmering:
These last six months have been a period of simmering—of quiet observation and frequent contemplation while life around me is boiling. There is so much happening in rapid succession in my personal life, at the national scale, and at the global scale. Every day contains a new onslaught of horrors as the united states government further perpetuates fascist ideologies and enacts violent legislation1. And still, I share smiles with neighbors and meals with friends, just like always. Artists and movement workers and educators continue their work, just like always. The birds sing and the first hints of spring burst through the soil, just like always.
I’ve found that nothing can capture the particular obscurity, complexity, and layers of a life like this the way poetry can. In an increasingly dichotomizing society, poetry exists outside of binaries. Poetry listens, challenges, and imagines. Lately, writing poems has been a refuge. How else can I make any sense of the madness but through art?

we must love this world
we must love this world. the dreamers the artists the rebels, the pulsing current of this cultural moment, go--collect feelings and glitter, live in curiosity swelled to seduction stand dreaming not yielding go do and dance and bring a political appetite for our art is our greatest antidote to numbing out.
listening to:
sweet surrender by hailey blais
death & romance by magdalena bay
just like north by angie mcmahon
currently grounding with:
Chani—I love this resource. Chani’s is a voice i am so grateful to have in these times.
You are Here: Poetry in The Natural World, edited and introduced by Ada Limón
Pleasure Activism by adriennemareebrown—I may have to write an entirely separate essay on the divine gift that is this book. It is my new bible.
flowering rosemary. stunning violet crocuses sprouting in vibrant defiance. bright daffodils. green, where not long ago there was nothing. pink blooms against a crisp blue sky.
comment below!!
What temperature is your life right now? Is it at a simmer? A boil? Room temp and still? How are you resisting oppressive systems in your every day life? What brings you hope? What flavor does this moment leave on your tongue?
thank you for your presence,
kenz <3
Kenzi, I’ve been slow and quite away from my Substack rhythm but catching up with this piece has been a delight. I appreciate your honesty and openess as always, bringing us into the mirror to see you and ourselves. I also see that this is almost 2 months on so I’m sending love to however you reflect back on this and on your living from 2 months ago. The found poem is gorgeous, I read it a few times and those last lines speak loud but the entire poem speaks to me. Sending a big hug to you
Your found poem is gorgeous!